It's Kind Of A Funny Story
by grandegrassi
Summary: 15 year old Campbell Saunders is undoubtedly depressed. Drowning in it. After he stops taking his pills and stops eating and starts planning his suicide, he decides that something needs to change. Now he'll be admitted into a psych ward with a mix of interesting characters. Will he be able to have a shift? (Based on the book 'It's Kind Of A Funny Story'). Language TriggerWarning!


Hi guys! So I've been reading the book It's Kind Of A Funny Story again lately, and I thought of Cam and thought it'd be cool to do this, so here it is! If you've read the book it'll make more sense I think, but it really doesn't matter. The story is just based on the book. So you don't have to read it.

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My name is Campbell Saunders, but everyone calls me Cam. I'm that hockey prodigy who worked his ass off to get to be on the Ice Hounds. I trained day in and day out, and now I'm too god-damned depressed to even feel happy about it anymore. Not just about hockey, about anything.

I have a pretty decent life, and I hate that fact. If I had an abusive dad that raped me or a mom who whored herself out to any guy who walked past, if I just...had something wrong other than the fact that I can't stand living, maybe I'd be better. If I just had a _reason._ But I don't. So I suffer in silence.

I go to Degrassi. It's far away from my parents, and I guess that's a good thing. God knows what they'd do if they saw me like that. My mom is a beautiful woman, the most beautiful I've ever seen actually. I'm not in love with my mom or anything fetish-y, don't get the wrong idea. She's just...beautiful. My dad is lucky. My mom has gotten more and more beautiful with age, and with usual older women it's the other way, so...it's nice. My mother has average brown hair like mine, but with a little bit of grey poking through. Not from stress, no, her life is as nice as she is. She's just getting older. She was 35 when she had me, and I'm 15...I'm no mathemitician, of course, I'm a hockey player. So I couldn't tell you her age. She had kind round hazel eyes that looked so different from my boring almond ones that were just brown. Ugly brown.

My dad was an average joe. God, that expression is phony as hell, but oh well. It describes him in a way. My dad's kind of phony in that way. He cries a lot for no reasons. Like if the commercials about the dogs dying or whatever come on, he cries. He really does. He was normal. Salt and pepper hair, brown eyes, grey stubble...No different from any other dad. He was sure lucky that he got to be with my mom.

I have two siblings. An older brother named Justin, and my transgendered (Male to Female) sister named Tanya. Tanya was originally Davie. The name Tanya had nothing to do with old Davie's name, but he-excuse me-she chose it. The transgender thing is new, so pronouns weren't my best shot. I still think it might be a phase, like the phase with the piercings all over Davie's-sorry, I guess Tanya's face.

My life is average. I spend my time with my friend Zig. He has the most gorgeous girlfriend ever, Maya. I'm in love with her but it doesn't matter. We dated before, but I got too sad and broke up with her, and now she's happy with Zig.

If you were to look for me on the weekends, I'd be at Zig's. The place is kind of a dump, but it didn't matter.

Every Friday night I'd begin to watch some movie, whether it be a disney movie or a new zombie movie or anything, I'd begin with both Maya and Zig, but then I'd hear them making out 10 minutes into the movie, and then I'd hear whispering, then I'd see them slowly make their way to Zig's bedroom to fuck or who knows what. I knew I sure didn't want to know, but I couldn't help but feel jealous every freaking Friday and sometimes Saturdays and Wednesdays.

I guess I gotta love Zig, but sometimes I hate him almost as much as I hate myself. Although I loved playing Grand Theft Auto and drinking wine coolers. The wine coolers tasted good. I didn't care if people called them wimpy. I got a mango one. Mango is my favorite. Sometimes we smoked weed if his parents were working, but sometimes we didn't. Mostly, we didn't. I didn't like smoking much anyway.

Anyway, that's my life. I see a therapist once a week, but it doesn't help. Her name is Dr. Bemis. I don't like her name. It reminds me too much of Penis, so I usually just call her by her first name. I don't think she likes it, but I'm messed up, so I guess there are perks. Her first name is Hazel. I like the name Hazel and think it suits my Doctor. She has striking hazel eyes with tan skin and small moles on her chin. She's exotic looking. But not in a stripper way. But in a way that you knew she wasn't born American. She was married to some guy who fixed cars. She wouldn't tell me much about herself. We focused on me mostly.

"So, Cam. How do you feel today?"

"Fine" I lied.

"Really?"

"No."

This is how it always works with us. Every time I pretend to be fine even though both of us know I'm not. It's like a routine. I like routines. Spontaneous things stressed me out too much.

We talked for about an hour about how messed up I was. The usual. She asked if my pills were working. I was taking Xanax. Well, she thought I was. I'd stopped about a week ago. But she didn't need to know that. The pills didn't work. I thought they did. My first fake shift.

A shift is what I'm aiming for. When I got to Degrassi my brain shifted into some messed up place and now I have to work on getting a shift back to where it's supposed to be. So I can be happy again.

Anyway, when I took my first few doses of the pills, I thought I was good. I thought I was fixed. A fake shift.

Then I started getting bad again. Worse that I was before the pills. So, I stopped. I'd rather be just depressed rather than super depressed.

So, here I was.

It's Friday night and I'm at Zig's. He's on the couch making out with Maya and they're whispering dirty things thinking I can't hear it. Ugh. I'm gonna be sick. I ate pizza for dinner-which I used to love, but now...with my depression and everything... I can barely keep things down. So, the combination of my small, weak stomach and hearing Zig say 'I wanna stick my tongue inside of you so hard' I ran to the bathroom and puked.

They noticed and were outside my door. "You okay, dude?" Maya said in her sweet, angelic voice. "Yeah, just not feeling well. I'm gonna go home."

They pretended to be sad I was leaving, but I knew exactly what they were going to do once I leave. And I knew what I was going to do. I was going to plan my suicide.


End file.
